Sherlock Sits up and Pays Attention
by FormerCircusTeapot
Summary: Just a continuation of the great game. A bit silly and too much dialogue. Johns POV. give it a go you know you wanna!


I closed my eyes. I was going to die. Was I going to die? Sherlock would do something. He would. Nothing happened for what seemed like eternity. I had a fancy I could feel warmth from the lasers dancing on my chest. It was strangely comforting. I didn't feel calm. Last time, in Afghanistan, I had felt calm. This time I was struck by a paralysing panic. My mind was completely blank. With my eyes closed the world was tiny. There was no swimming pool next to me. No mad 'consulting criminal' taunting me. I couldn't shut it out though. My terror struck mind seemed to focus in on the rippling blue light playing over my eyelids. The stinging of chlorine about my nose.

BANG!

I wasn't dead. As I opened my eyes a burst of water filled my eyes and mouth. Then Sherlock grabbed my shoulder and we ran from the pool ducking through into the changing room. Sherlock skidded through the showers. I heard a strangled cry. Then a vivid, searing pain shot through my leg. A sickeningly reminiscent pain. I had been shot.

As my vision blurred, I saw Sherlock spin around and run towards me. Then I blacked out.

I woke up in a perfect cliché. Sherlock and Mycroft's voices wafted over to me with the smell of disinfectant before a hospital scene swam blurredly before my eyes. Barbara Windsor walked across the room carrying a spoonful of syrupy medicine. Well she didn't. She almost could have though. I listened to the conversation.

"Stop pacing"

"Why?"

"It suggests you have a human side." Mycroft paused but I could hear Sherlock continue to walk up and down the tiny room. "You should leave..." He sounded almost kind "...he's safer without you"

Sherlock sighed loudly and stopped. His shoes squeaked on the floor as he turned to face his brother. "Can you hide us?"

"Hide you? Are you asking me for help?"

"Yes" Sherlock sounded anguished. His voice was raised and Mycroft made a shushing sound. I ground my teeth.

"How long do you want to hide for?" Mycroft stressed the 'hide' oilily.

"Not long. I need to think."

"Think, he simply wants to kill you Sherlock. There is very little to puzzle out."

"Don't be an idiot Mycroft." Sherlock snapped.

"Can I help?"

"Hide us!" Sherlock's voice had risen in both emotion and volume. There was a pause as Sherlock began pacing again.

It struck me that I should sit up. Maybe even attempt to contribute to this conversation between the two brothers. I shuffled into sitting and a pain shot up my left leg. I let out a groan. Sherlock's head snapped around like it had been on elastic.

"Well I was wrong about your leg." There was a curious warmth in Sherlock's voice. It felt to me like warm water lapping against my body. I cocked an eyebrow in askance. "It wasn't psychosomatic. It was a premonition." There was laughter in his voice now.

"You were very lucky." Mycroft walked over to stand above his brother who was now sitting at the end of my bed. "The bullet only nicked your flesh. I should be fine within a week."

"Thanks" I said slightly cowed by the four dark eyes boring into me. "Where are we?" Mycroft twirled his fingers as if imagining his umbrella was there.

"We're in London." Mycroft sounded evasive.

"We're not supposed to know." Sherlock rolled his eyes. "Some government facility."

"What happened in the pool?" Sherlock and Mycroft exchanged looks.

"I shot a pipe full of water. We ran. You got shot. I carried you out then called Mycroft." Sherlock seemed unusually subdued.

"What happened to him?"

"He disappeared."

"Absolutely no trace" Mycroft seemed to grow in exuberance in contrast to his brother. "if Sherlock didn't seem more scared than I've seen him in years I wouldn't believe he existed at all."

"We're going to have to hide for a bit." Sherlock seemed very grave. This didn't really chime with my feelings. I wouldn't be able to see Sarah, but I could live with that. It seemed to me that a bit of hiding would be much harder on Sherlock than it would on me. How would he cope without a big juicy murder.

"I'll help out" Sherlock's face relaxed slightly at Mycroft's words. It tightened again quickly as the fairer man said "How about a little stay in the Cotswolds."

"What?"

"You'll be safer there than in Argentina or wherever you were imagining and mummy is owed a visit."

"What?" This was my turn. It seemed very odd to be hidden by the cream of the British secret service in the home of my friends parents. On the other hand I had to admit to a burning curiosity to meet the parents of these two enigmatic men. I looked at Sherlock and saw a curious hint of panic in the back of his eyes. Cruel as it might seem this only heightened my curiosity.

As we'd left the 'government establishment' Mycroft exchanged every electronic item we had for others unknown to the outside world and warned us against contacting anybody. Then we got into a large, black, forbidding car and glided smoothly out of London. A stony, grey faced man in the front seat brooded in the front. Sherlock sat curled in the back seat opposite me staring out of the window.

"What are you thinking?" The words spilled out of my mouth before I could control them. This was worse than waking up in the hospital room. I'd have a soundtrack next.

"Why did he come and see us?"

"Mycroft?"

"Not Mycroft, Moriarty!"

"I've no idea. Is it important?"

"Of course its important, we can't stay in hiding for ever." Sherlock had turned to look at me now. His eyes were wide and seemed to bore into me.

"What happened..." I paused worried this might be part of the cause of Sherlock's downcast mood. "...to the Bruce-Partington plans"

"Oh, Mycroft is emphatically not happy with me about that! They found the memory stick. The water had done a pretty effective job at wiping it. I can't SEE how he could have gleaned anything from it."

"Do you think he might have been after them after all then?"

"No" Sherlock seemed dejected "I almost wish he did that might mean that he would leave us alone. But I think its me he is really after and by extension you."

There was something chilling in this thought and I didn't want to dwell on it so I asked. "What are your parents like"

Sooooooo...thankyou for reading if you've got this far. I'm not great at keeping up stories but hopefully I can try with this for a while. I have got a plan for the plot but its not written out yet. Maybe I need encouragemet. Sorry about the poor proof-reading. I hope you like it and constructive critisism is more than welcome.


End file.
